You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free.

"Its been alot of people dude. I got my finger shot off by some crazy long haired chinese guy at the ravine. Some kid jumped me two nights ago and started hitting me with this-" Cody held up the tire iron, which he knew to be Madelines. "But I wrestled it away from him and he took off. Did some serious shit to my ribs though, the right side of my body hurts like a bitch. I also got hit from behind a couple of times" Cody gestured to the mottled blood and bruising at the back of his head. "I really don't know why I'm not dead from that one, I just woke up a couple of hours later in the same spot I landed. Maybe someone came and scared the kid off that hit me, I dunno. I do know one thing though, I'm alive, and I probobly shouldn't be, and I'm fucking grateful."

God this is hard. I want to kill him so badly. I just need to keep up this facade for a little while, get him in the position I want... This is fun, like a game of chess only with the loser dying.

"So, why are you running around alone? I am just because I havn't been able to bring myself around to trusting anyone. I mean, I have ran across groups before, but mostly I just go in, say hi, and head out. I have been trying to stay away from the more populated areas. I figure, eventually, everyone will be dead, and as sick as it sounds, I would rather off the one thats left than have to figure out who is going to die in a group come endgame."

Adam twitched a little as Andrew brought out the tire iron, knowing as well as Andrew (Cody) did that the weapon had been the designated weapon of one Madelaine Shirohara, a close friend of his, whose rapist he was currently pursuing. As he listened to the list of Andrew's injuries, Adam couldn't help but reflect back upon the amount of people that had attacked him. Jacob Starr topped that list, for the kid had chased Adam and Hawley for almost two days - but he knew where that ended, and it was a place he didn't feel, at the moment, like revisiting.

Adam nodded a little in response to Andrew's statement.

"I think at this point, we're all lucky to be alive, simply because there's very few of us that are. I've been keeping a bit of a count, I think the number's like, under thirty now. From here on in, well...you have a one in thirty shot of living to the end, you know? It's such a fucked-up situation..."

At Andrew's next question, he smirked bitterly, a deep hatred and bitterness flowing into his eyes. His speech, of course, remained calm, which was almost frightening, regarding the circumstances. Looking up into the boy's eyes, it would be evident that Adam had been through hell, and had so much hatred and regret in his heart. Andrew would see that Adam had so much of a purpose on the island, and how very driven that he was.

It would drive shivers into even the coldest psychopath.

"...yeah, I've actually been around groups for a majority of the time. I had a close group of like...six or seven people that was really tight. We were so sure that we'd escape together, and we were certain that things would turn out well. It was amazing, because some of these people, I'd hardly even met, yet I'd trust any of them with my life..."

Adam paused, spitting into the dirt as he scratched the side of the Uzi that he let dangle down towards the ground.

"...and of course, the game took it's toll. On me, and on them. I'm still trying to figure out who it took more from, to be honest. I found my best friend, who was in a fucking wheelchair...dead. I mean, who kidnaps a handicapped guy? It isn't even that he makes good television, you know? One of my buddies killed himself. Ran into a danger zone for God-knows what reason. Another close friend...he just sat down and died - he'd been so busy taking care of everyone else, myself included, that he'd neglected himself, and he just sat down and died. Another slipped into a coma..." Adam winced at Marcus' memory.

"...and died...one of my friends ran off, saving my ass from Jacob Starr, and my guess is that he ended up dead somehow. Announcement didn't say...my girlfriend, she, uh...she got herself shot in the face twice - the one moment that I happened to be away from her. Really fucked me up a lot inside...and...Madelaine..."

Adam paused, the true and utter hatred really coming to bear and making a brief appearance as his eyes flashed and a scowl drew itself across his face. As quickly as it had come, though, it left, leaving him somewhat composed, as before.

"...some pathetic excuse for a human being raped and murdered the girl who's original weapon was the tire iron that you're carrying. So that....that's really the end of my friends."

Spitting again into the dirt, Adam shrugged.

"It's funny, in a way. My friends lost their lives but I don't know if any of them, except for, Madelaine, of course, have suffered as much as I have. That...that's the thing that's really driving me, too. Find the fucker who raped her, and make him suffer as much as she did. As much as I have. Sounds cold-blooded, but...she deserves as much. Brutal thing is, too...I hardly know what the asshole looks like. Fuckin' guy was some junior hockey star, some dude who couldn't cut it to Sid Crosby - who, imagine the fucking coincidence, is here on the island too! But yeah. I don't even know what this guy looks like. All I know is that he's some dude that has an inferiority complex, probably has a small dick, and decided to seriously try and power-play by raping a friend of mine. Fuckin' guy could be anywhere, and I wouldn't even know it."

An unreadable expression came over Cody's features. To anyone looking at him, it looked as if he was pondering what Adam had said, perhaps trying to find the right words to console the boy. In actuality, Cody was practically fighting himself, as the only thing he wanted to do was jump at the boy and tear his throat out.

Couldn't fucking cut it? I'm better than that canadian peice of shit, fool...

Fucking glad your pissed, that little bitch was fun...

Just kill him Cody. Just grab the hatchet, and bury it into his head.

No..no...Cool it...Just chill...calm down...

Cody was almost afraid of the boy. He seemed to be a very driven fellow, and based on what he said, Cody realized that they had been on a crash course to each other since the beginning of the game.

this is the one...not Sydney...This is the number 1 on the Island, and I have to beat him to be the best...

"Hey man...I've lost so many friends that I'm almost numb to it all, it seems. But that one...hurts the most. Just because, well...the inadequacy that someone's gotta have to fucking rape someone, it makes me sick. I've seen more than enough Law and Order: SVU episodes to know that rapists are fucked up so badly, it's disgusting."

Scratching the Uzi again, he rolled his eyes.

"I mean...I followed the Juniors..like, a little. I'm a huge hockey fan, but...I dunno, I'm more into the NHL and, occasionally, the AHL, you know, see the up-and-comers. And I remember reading articles about this guy - stellar defenceman, led his team to do really well...basically got the shit end of the sick, would've been number one had it not been for Sid the fuckin' wonder kid. But like, while so many scouts liked this guy, I remember reading this one website - hockeysfuture.com. It listed this guy as like...having some serious screws loose, you know? Not the kind of attention problem that someone like Corey Pecker had, but like...some serious oddities to him. Took stupid penalties ALL the time, had a brutal temper. Put a kid in the hospital once for giving him a hook. Stupid stuff like that. And I mean, if it's all true, doesn't matter how much potential a guy has, it's just...wasted. Guy would've never made the NHL, not with problems like that. And it's funny, because ends up - pow, the guy becomes a fuckin' rapist. Guy had it all, and if it hadn't been for SOTF, maybe the guy woulda raped a kid, or something. You never know."

Sighing once again, he grinned a little.

"Blew my mind though, that Crosby was here. I actually kinda picked him up and threatened him a little, because he saw the whole fuckin' thing happen. Told me - it's this Cody Jenson kid, but he's one sick puppy, he's fucked up, and he's nuts. And I'm thinkin'...shit...that name is SO familiar. Can't remember what the dude looks like, but...I remember, he was the solid number two after Crosby. Had a rivalry with him or something. But nah, man...nobody fuckin' beats Crosby. That kid is ridiculous. This Jenson guy, well...I dunno, goon-y defenseman, with a decent shot? Fuckin' guy was probably just the next Aki Berg. Nothin' special. At least, that's what Crosby said...just before I slit his throat..."

Adam put on a deadly serious look and stared at Andrew, before grinning slightly.

"Sorry...I'm just kidding. Kinda rambling about hockey and whatnot...figured I'd just shock 'ya a little. Hell, I wouldn't wanna be the guy who killed Crosby. Of course, that Jenson kid is probably gunning for Crosby. Probably wants to kill the guy who he always lost to...shit man, it's be fuckin' hysterical if Crosby actually killed him. Then he'd lose to Crosby in everything. Number two for his whole life. Heh.

But yeah, sorry. I'm getting a little wrapped up in this. Can't miss an instance to insult the sorry sack of shit. I'm just trying not to think about all my friends being...you know, dead, and all. Plus the damn tranquilizers are still kicking around."

Pausing, almost for breath, Adam looked at Andrew, the sarcastic look that he'd had through most of his rant slipping away.

"I...I think I remember reading about that Jenson kid too. I used to read up on the up and comers to try to get a play on who to draft come fantasy time. He always got mixed reviews. For some reason, people seemed to think he was weird or something. Maybe he just played aggressive hockey, who knows. Based on what I read, he seemed to be a pritty good offensive defenseman. Had NHL scouts looking at him all the time. Shame he got hurt like that. Well, not a shame actually, the guy sounds like a fucking psycho."

No..Crosby's not gonna kill me you fucking ginger, and your not going to either.

Cody/Andrew stood up and paced around the site for a bit, trying as best he could to hold his anger in. Dodd was pushing every button he had, and Cody was not liking how this was turning out.

Adam sighed. The more he spoke, it seemed like the more this kid was becoming exasperated. Truthfully, he couldn't blame him. While Adam was talking about hockey to try and get his mind just a little off of the situation at hand, to everyone else in the game, it might not be that easy. Of course, he also couldn't help throwing out jabs every single time that he could at Cody Jenson. It was the least that he could do, to let the world know how much of an inadequacy problem that he believed Jenson had. Psychologists would likely analyze him and his actions for years to come (as Adam expected, they'd analyze each and every single person on the island), and Adam wanted to make sure that his two cents was in there, and on the record as well. Looking up at Andrew, he shrugged a little bit.

"Well...I guess now we move on. Granted, the rest was great for my energy level - which is shit right now as it is, but in this game, you can't stay in one place for too long. Best bet is to keep out of the limelight...which I've pretty much failed at doing this whole time. I keep running into people, actually. But, uhh...you're welcome to join me. Some way, I have to run into someone who knows what this fucker looks like. That's really all we can do, is keep moving, until the end, which will come, one way or another..."

But I'll be damned if it'll be by the hand of Cody-muthafuckin'-Jenson!

Cody continued to pace around the camp, silently stewing at the words of Adam.

How I want to kill that boy. I will, I just have to wait, wait until it hurts the most...

"We probably could move tactically, try to get indoors somewhere. Maybe we could hole up somewhere till it dies down, then go after a terrorist or something. With your arsenal, and my mobility, we could probobly storm what is left of the field and win."

Cody looked around him, nonchalontly kicking a rock as he spoke.

"You do know that pritty much all of the non players are dead. I dont think we could organize much of a rebellion with the kids that are left."

You've gotta be honest with yourself there, Doddio. You haven't thought twice about what you're going to do if you actually manage to go out and kill Cody Jenson. You manage to find him, and then what? Then you're a killer. Granted, I'm already a killer, but...

Adam sighed a little. He certainly seemed to be doing quite a lot of that lately. Of course, given his current situation, one could probably allow for a certain degree of stress to come in and overtake them. Especially since Adam was still recovering from all of the tranquilizers that had pulsed through his body, making him woozy and dulling his logical thinking skills. Shaking his head a little, he tried to focus on Andrew, who was pacing the wooded area rather pensively, listening to the boy speak.

In the back of his mind, though, Adam couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding about this entire situation. Something about it just didn't seem right. Not to mention that the words coming from Andrew's mouth sounded almost insane - the notion of actually playing the game, of deciding to go and kill as many as they could. It was crazy, it wasn't something that Adam thought that he could stomach, not even at all.

Man, who the hell are you even kidding? You've already killed eight people. For all you know, that could be the top total, and you're saying you have no stomach for killing? Now THAT's internal conflict.

A grimace on his face, Adam shook his head slightly at Andrew's words.

"Nah, man...we don't. I've got a solo mission here, and that's to kill a fuckbag. After that...well, then I'm going to try and escape. Escape, or just ride it out, until the end, you know? Try and get the collar off, and then swim the fuck out of here. This island can't be too far out in the middle of nowhere."

Blinking once, Adam still had that sense of foreboding. He also couldn't take his eyes off of the tire iron that Andrew held in his hands, spattered in blood...he KNEW who had been assigned the tire iron, he KNEW who'd stolen it...and now, here it was, in the hands of someone he'd never seen before, never met.

It would all add up, really. Him having the tire iron, the motorcycle laying against that tree over there. But...no. He already said that he was attacked with the tire iron and managed to wrestle it away from his assailant. It's such a weak story, but...goddamn, if it were any other situation, I'd call him a liar. I've seen the stupidest things happen, so who am I to judge...

Eyeing Andrew as he paced around the camp, Adam finally interjected. "Dude, can you stop pacing? I'm gettin' anxious, here. Fuck. I'm worried too, but the one thing we can do right now is stick together. There's safety in numbers, and...man, I've got your back, if you've got mine, cool?"

Looking down at the ground for a moment, he wondered if this vow that he was making was, in all actuality, a good idea. Then again, the boy had spent time bandaging him up, tending to his wounds. Bad people-no, EVIL people like Cody Jenson didn't have that kind of good within them. But...he had to know...

"Oh, and...ah, this guy who attacked you...you know, who you stole the tire iron from...what'd he look like? He may just be the guy I'm looking for, Mister small-cock rapist himself..."

Cody smiled. This was going to be easier than he had origionally planned.

"Absolutly dude. Why would I have patched you up if I didn't have your back?"

"Oh, and...ah, this guy who attacked you...you know, who you stole the tire iron from...what'd he look like? He may just be the guy I'm looking for, Mister small-cock rapist himself..."

He is inquiring about the tire iron...I should not even have let him see it...

"Long hair, blue eyes. Kind of crazy looking. He was really fucked up though, blood was just oozing from his mouth, like someone did some serious damage to his organs somewhere along the line. He was a muscular kid, but didn't put up nearly the fight that he should have. I used to box back in the day, and it only took about three solid punches to drop him, and then I took this. I turned around to see if the kid was dead or something, and he was just gone. Like a fucking ghost. It was creepy as hell."

Cody held up the bloodstained tire iron. He noticed one of his own hairs still stuck in the dried blood on the hilt, and reached to pluck it off with a grimace.

Adam clenched his jaw tightly at the mention of the tire iron having been through a lot. Indeed, it had. It had been Madelaine's, and while Adam didn't quite know all that she'd been through, or who she'd hit with it, he knew that it had been with Madelaine up until her death. At least now he had an idea as to what Cody Jenson looked like.

Or do you? This kid could be fucking with you. You see the twinkle in his eye when he said that to you? Fuck, man, you have no idea who this fucking guy is, anyway. He's so familiar, but from where...

Half shaking his head when what almost sounded like Andrew Lipson's voice was the one he heard in his head, his eyes kept focused on the tire iron. So many different thoughts filled his head as he looked at the blood on the end of it. There were so many different responses that he could have to Andrew's statement. He could leap up, rip the tire iron from the boy's hand, and beat his face in for lying to him, for concealing the truth from him, that he was Cody Jenson, that he'd been the one to do those horrible things. He could simply sigh, and keep on going, or he could just put his gun to his head and end it right there.

"Yeah...it sure has. Been through almost as much as I have..."

It was then that the loudspeakers crackled to life, and a shiver ran down Adam's spine as Danya's almost annoying voice enlightened them on the status of the game. Scowling at the information that Danya provided about the country's demands, Adam's heart sunk. The United States of America, unless something had changed drastically in the past month, didn't negotiate with terrorists. Not even at all.

So is that it? Are we fucked? Could I possibly get to the end, and then just put in a room and shot, with that being it? Fuck, it almost demoralizes a person. Course, that's probably...the point, right?

Adam's thoughts came right to a halt as the 'kills' portion of the announcement was read off with Danya's usual sarcasm. Adam tabulated the numbers in his head, and winced as his name was mentioned twice. Sighing a little, he realized that grew his number to eight, which gave him an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach.

In Survival of the Fittest, the top killer was Adam Dodd. The top killer was himself.

Looking at his newfound ally, he waited to see if the information would sink in, and judging by the look on the boy's face, it likely was beginning to.

As the annoucement swept over the Island, blaring on all the different loudspeakers around the place, Cody heard Adam Dodd's name. Not once, but twice.

I can definatly use this to my advantage.

His grip hardened on the tire iron, and his body tensed as he gave Adam one of his trademark Cody Jenson stares, one that seemed to say, I know what you are thinking, and I still plan to kill you.

"You kill people. What is all this about not playing? That list said you killed two people. That is just in the last day! How many more have you killed, Adam?"

Codys eyes widened, in what may have looked like delirious fear but was actually extreme anger.

"Did you hear MY name on that list? No! Because I try to survive, and I dont fucking kill people, so unless you have a better explanation for your name being up their twice, and the fucking Sherman tank that you are carrying, You might just find yourself on the wrong end of this fucking tire iron."

Adam couldn't help but find himself taken aback by the extreme display of anger that had come from Andrew. Adam expected a look of fear, but not of what almost seemed like some form of underlying anger that came from the boy clutching the tire iron. Calmly, Adam looked at Andrew and sized the boy up and down. Seeing no other real way to respond to the boy's question, he shrugged, and rubbed the stock of the Uzi that he was holding, to remind Andrew that if he decided to make any sudden moves, he WAS holding several loaded weapons.

"Six."

Scratching the back of his neck, Adam looked down at the Leafs jersey that he wore. Eight days in, going on nine, and he looked as though he'd just lasted through three episodes of Survivor.

"There are six more people I've killed. In fact...I think that's the most out of anybody."

Scratching his goatee, he stretched his neck to the side. Adam couldn't help be amazed at how quickly this situation had turned from an easygoing conversation into something far more adversarial.

"Fact is, a lot of them were killed in self-defense, or in defense of someone else. I think...maybe two of them weren't. But yeah, that's eight. But you know what? If you were in my position, I bet you wouldn't have done half as well as I've done. Goddamnit, if you were in my position though this whole game, you'd probably be fucking dead, so don't even TRY and lecture me on any shit. I don't have to justify myself to anyone, not especially some dude I just met. I appreciate the help, I really do, but if you're gonna judge me based on the fact that I just so happened to have killed more people than anyone else, then...well...fuck, I don't know what to tell you. Maybe I am playing, if that's the way you define it. If so, then...hey, what can I do? Things have happened, and people have attacked me. I'm alive, they aren't. Besides, the fuck have you done? Sat around and hid? I haven't heard your fucking name on any announcement. Not even so much as a peep. I mean, you can't tell me that you've been able to successfully outrun absolutely everyone. I mean, maybe you didn't strike the killing blow, but maybe you did fuck up someone, and they died later? Hm? There, man. There you go. I've told you the truth...and to be honest, I swear I've fucking seen you before. Run into you at least once, but I can't put my finger on where. So why don't you start speaking up, telling me the truth, instead of this 'I've been hiding for the whole time' bullshit?"

Adam was surprised at how fired up he was, but frankly, he wasn't sure if he were more running on adrenaline, or instinct.

"No no no no no...Don't you try to turn this on me. You think it is weird that I Haven't killed people yet? I don't! I avoid them! I don't get in big groups, its useless, there are too many betrayers around here. I have made my way around the Island, seen my share of groups of people, and you know what? Most of them are gone."

Cody shook his head and let out a sigh, calming himself down for a minute. He was really getting into this charade.

"I guess I got lucky. Same as you. You said you killed people in self defense, or in protection of others, but what I am wondering, is why the hell were you protecting anyone? This game is going to play out, there are too many security features and too many procautions to try to play any other way. Anyone who thinks they can escape is a fool. These terrorists have done this before. No one escaped then, what makes you think it will work now?"

Cody fingered the collar that wrung his neck, feeling the cold, innocent metal against the tips of his grainy and bloody fingers.

"We are trapped. The only one that is getting out of here is the winner. Or if you happen to kill one of the terrorists, which is, I guarantee, impossible. Its only a ploy to send more kids to their deaths. I mean, did you see how many kills that one bitch had? In a fucking day!"

Pacing around the site, Cody could feel the beginning of another migrane, a feeling that was so familiar in the past couple of days. Rubbing his face and eyes, he could feel himself getting dizzy, and had to sit down suddenly.

Without warning, Cody Jenson turned to his stomach, got up on his knees, and began wretching showers of blood upon the twig and grass laden ground of the forest, eventually collapsing, breathing hard, and holding his injured ribs, nearly crying with the amount of pain that his failing body was putting him through.

Adam's mouth formed a thin line as he grimly stared at Andrew. The words that the kid was saying definitely had some merit. The terrorists HAD done it before, and they'd been successful. But Adam refused to believe the possibility that escape was impossible.

"Dude, fact of the matter is, there's NO way that they could have planned for every single eventuality. It's impossible. Chaos theory, and whatnot."

As he watched Andrew sit down, his eyes went wide at the other boy's sudden frenzy of blood and coughing. Rushing to the boy's side (against what his instincts were screaming at him) he knelt down and put his arm on Andrew's shoulder.

"Hey man...just try and breathe...just take it easy, dude...shit, there's GOT to be something seriously wrong inside of you, man..."